Sukasah Syahdan


I am reminiscing you; and the little boy who often stole some change from the left pocket of your pants that would hang behind the door in the front room; his pride in bringing

To Whom Words Are Mightier

1/ To whom words are mightier than swords Be warned, for woes may thee betide After our pride, land, offsprings and lives What more of us can be deprived? Virtuousness and compliance Are being

Quatrain on a Jar of Pickles

after that fleeting summer In your overjoyed heart, Haunt years to endure A love with all doors shut Forget a hearty dinner Make do instead, with these Fingerlike cucumbers Who taught you to be

The Hypermarket

history is a hurried Checklist of the goods Mankind wishes To unforget Poetry is a soft whisper Against the bads Mankind wishes To unregret (04/06/99 – 08/2001)

How Much More Blood?

How much more blood Must the people suffer Before they come to a halt With this horror of power? How many more lives Do we have to proffer ’till cloyed they are forever With


(To Grandma) Convention will fail us, grandma dear One of these days, as another birthday is drawing near I hope I can manage with a proper wish On something you no longer cherish And


I used to believe that comprehension began right there; That what eyes failed to make sense of, was insensibility. Every time a picture offers a thousand words, They claim the first to know; and

A Distant Recluse

To: E. D.) Supposing I were really there In Kosovo, Aceh, or East Timor And lived myself every horror The media have reported over Would I still and all care about The latest Nokia


standing in front of a mirror You recall it said: To hinge upon time is self-delusion Tomorrows and days after, Longevity or ephemeron Are mere matters of illusion At twilight or dawn Being singularly


Some say the taxes we paid Through the nose Were spent on weapons That would send us to the grave. Today, realizing the old way is inefficient, They have made us kill each other.


I have longed to hit the quill And hear the faithful tick-tock Of a perishing machine I have longed to bear witness Of encounters of words and meanings Long sunk in man’s memory I

Tears Hang on Her Eyes

tears hang on her eyes The ones on the left Fearing the stertorus night sky The ones on the right Imbued with thoughts Of her faraway mom


Please forgive us should You find this insolent Or see no tears we shed after the latest trick of Yours But writhing inside, we have been guessing the motive Eeach time one disaster rallies

You Gotta be Kidding

So you think God Soliloquizes to Himself (or Herself, Itself, or Godself For that matter) In front of the Bathroom Mirror? You gotta be kidding! You think God exchanges Conversations with Fellas At a

Sonnet I: Love Song

Shalt Cupid be blamed thou doth dominate Dwelling in days and nights with dignity? With this self as my only best comrade, I treasure thy fancy as whate’er means beauty. Mine own mind, too,
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